Matricalis
by Extraho
Summary: A series of onshots and drabbles featuring Damon and Tyler's life after 'Madrigalian'. Can be read on their own, but I do recommend reading the story first. Damon/Tyler slash former mpreg
1. Age 4 Part 1

Hopefully this will be the only A/N, so pay attention.

1) The story is rated T, but some of the one-shots/drabbles may be rated M.

2) The oneshots will not be cornological; they will be 'sorted' by the age of their baby.

3) The way the Admin is removing stories with no warning, is draconian, and if it weren't for the fact that is the best site for fanfiction, I'd flip them the middle finger and never come back.

* * *

Summary; When Tyler joined the NFL, Damon couldn't be happier for him. If only he could be happy for himself.

Age 4

Damon said in the living room of his penthouse apartment, nursing a tumbler of Bourbon.

Tyler was out again.

With his team mates.

Sometimes Damon wondered if they even knew he existed. Existed as Tylers boyfriend, husband, that was. And for better or for worse, the mother of Tyler's daughter.

When Little Marion had been born, their lives had been like a bed of roses. Now Damon started to feel the thorns. She was asleep now, but not for long. Sleep was hard to come by for both of them when they weren't surrounded by Tyler's woody scent.

It had been a while since Tyler slept in their bed, so the scent was starting to disappear, even to Damons sensitive vampire nose. And Marions, apparently. She had taken to sleeping in their bed when Tyler was gone.

Needless to say Damon had gotten used to waking up with a head full of dark silky hair under his nose.

Three quarters vampire and a quarter werewolf, and the little girl had trouble finding her father's scent in his own bed. It pissed Damon off.

A part of him wanted to call a baby-sitter and go out and party until he forgot about it all. Stupid werewolf hybrids. But he knew he wouldn't be able to live with himself if his baby woke up alone.

So he sat there.

He sat there until dawn.

When the sun finally peeked over the skyline, his eyes were red and swollen from withholding his tears and his anger.

He turned towards the quiet sound of pitter-patters on the hardwood floors.

"Papa," Marion mumbled, teddy tight in her grasp. "Is it morning yet?"

Damon smiled sadly and put down his still half full glass of Bourbon. "Not yet honey. Let's go sleep," he said and picked her up.

"Are you upset, papa?" she asked, her voice sleepy and muffled.

"No, sunshine," he lied, "Papa, is just tired."


	2. Age 4 Part 2

A/N; it seems like these first few will indeed be connected oneshots. As said, sorted by age.

Age 4

Tyler couldn't believe that he was now a professional football player. Not for kicks, or just practice.

But for real.

He had a contract. Not for the bench, but for real.

He was elated.

The manager said that he would have given the contract to Tyler years ago if it weren't' for his age. While it wasn't a law-made rule, he knew exactly what kind of heap he could get into by having a teenager, pre-drinking age boy on the team. The media backlash alone would be a disaster.

Hence, the best birthday present ever.

He had not hung out with the star players much. They did not give much attention to the kids; most of the didn't stick around for long. After his injury, they didn't think Tyler would stick around for long.

Of course, being a hybrid, nothing short of death could stop Tyler.

Now they gave him attention. He was one of the guys again. Sure, he was the star quarterback of NYU, but it wasn't quite the same thing. He had a feeling some of the guys would always view him as a kid, until he truly got the chance to prove himself.

He wasn't the biggest guy. Sure, he'd grown to be taller than Damon, but nowhere near as monolithic as some of the guys. That was all right though. He was still stronger and faster than them.

But something rested heavy on his soul. Even though all of his team mates knew Damon, knew they lived together, it seemed they were slow on the uptake on what was actually going on. You'd think after three years they'd catch on, but no.

Five years and still going strong.

And after that debacle in State Finals you'd think it wouldn't be a secret. Implied secret. Don't ask don't tell. The manager has said he couldn't give a rats ass who he fucked, married or bred with as long as he played like a god. The coach didn't agree.

It didn't sit right with him.

Even after five years together, the way Damon effected him, was frightening sometimes. It surprised him sometimes just how much he loved him.

"Yeah, you go Lockwood!" he heard someone yell over the music.

He'd done this before; dance, flirt, but on a show.

Which was why he had no idea why he was doing this; why he was letting his hands wander under her skirt, easily hoist her up- she was so much lighter than Damon- and slammed the door behind him.

It was like he was a passenger in his own body.

~*~


	3. 7 months

Age 7 month

Tyler's hypersensitive ears picked up a subtle shuffling sound. He listened intently, but the sound had disappeared. Shaking his head he returned his nose to his studies.

There it was again.

He frowned and looked around the room. Nothing. He sighed, it was probably just someone downstairs, or in the elevator shaft. Supernatural hearing, indeed.

There it was again. Along with a small whimper. He knew that whimper. He shot up from the couch and bolted out in the hallway.

What he saw made his heart stop and his blood freeze in his veins. "Damon!" He yelled, "Come quick!" Urgency in his voice.

A muffled crash was heard somewhere and suddenly Damon was there, sleep ruffled and bleary eyed. But not for long, "Oh my God!" he gasped. He pushed his long fringe out of his face. Since giving birth he hadn't had the chance to even get a haircut. And he'd complained about it. He was exhausted, and still partially mortal. How did full mortals deal with this?

And all the while he was dozing, this happened.

How could this have happened without them noticing?

Marion was crawling!

Tyler wrapped his arms around Damon as they watched their little baby squirm around on the floor, occasionally getting her chubby feet and hands underneath herself for a proper crawly step.

Only to land on her belly, giggling delightfully.


	4. 20 minutes

Age 20 min.

"Marion Lockwood," Tyler mused as they laid in bed together. "Sounds rich."

"She is rich," Damon pointed out, looking down upon their new born daughter. By all accounts, Damon knew he should be in a world of pain right now, but for some reason he couldn't feel any of it.

Little Marion was not a tiny baby. She was healthy and strong. A were-cub indeed.

"True."

"And she'll have my name," Damon added, "Marion Salvatore."

Tyler snorted, "Over my dead body."

"That can be arranged," Damon said causally.

"I'm her father, she should have my name."

"I carried her for over nine months, and eleven hours of labour," Damon said, his voice almost dreamy as he stuck his nose into the black fluff on her head. "Lockwood-Salvatore is my final offer..."

Tyler was sure Damon had gone loopy with the way he was talking. But he had him here. Damon definitely held the victory card in this discussion.

Marion Lockwood-Salvatore.

Marion Salvatore-Lockwood.

Tyler had to admit, Lockwood-Salvatore sounded better. This way she didn't need a middle name.

"No middle name," he said.

"Deal."


	5. Chapter 5

Hello everyone, I've decided to discontinue the independent oneshots... and do a full blown story instead! yeah? Thought you'd like that. However, it does mean i wont update this for a while, while I work it out. As you probably know, I've got a few other stories going as well. And Uni with all of its papers and dissertations, which is a bitch, but it's got to be done.

While you wait, here are a few teasers for the story. a few short scenes from the full story. Please tell me what you think.

1

Damon was shaking slightly as he sat on the bench waiting for Tyler. You couldn't tell by looking at him. He sat with his ankle resting on his knee and his arms resting on the back of the bench.

The cheerleaders were doing their thing on the grass and the players were doing their thing on the field. It was just like high school. It was just like college.

But of course, before he got to talk to Tyler, the manger came over. The coach hated his guts, but the manager had a hard time ignoring Damon Salvatore.

"Mr. Salvatore, I wasn't expecting to see you here," Patrick Baker said and sat down. "What are you up to these days.

"This and that, you know me," he said flippantly. The truth was, he'd settled into a career for the first time in his 170-someing year long life. And he'd only done it to distract himself from the clusterfuck his life had become.

"I was just thinking how much like high school and college this is."

The manager hummed, "But there is more at stake now."

Damon nodded. "No, it wasn't like college," he said suddenly, "-because in college my husband wasn't screwing the cheerleaders."

"Uh..."

Damon had to say, Baker was an attractive man. Mid-forties, blond curly hair, green eyes and tanned skin. He stuck out in New York. If it wasn't for his tailored three piece suit, he belonged on a beach somewhere. "That one," he said and pointed to the bouncy blond, "The brunet to the left, and the red-head. The blond with the black wrist band. And the black girl, and the curly-top."

"He told you?"

"Of course not. He's not stupid."

"Then how do you know? If you don't mind me asking?"

Damon glanced at the other man. "I know what they think of me; they think I'm a kept boy, just a pretty little thing... Tyler's room mate... that I'm living off of him."

Patrick did not say a word.

"But I'm a rich man, Mr. Baker. I have so much money, I don't know how much I have, 'cause it multiplies to fast for me to keep track of. I have a _department _of accountants to do that.

"Damon, Tyler is the most promising player I've ever seen, the guy is a tank." Patrick said, thinking that Damon, like many rich people, wanted to influence their line-up with money. Usually that was how the game worked, but Tyler Lorckwood was something special.

"I know that," Damon snapped. He took a deep breath and willed the anger induced bloodlust down. "I trained him. I taught him everything he knows beyond the high school basics of football. I have three BA Honours from Yale, Harvard and Oxford and two PhD's From Berkeley and Cambridge and people treat me like I'm his fucking trophy wife." Granted, it had taken him a hundred and seventy years to do all of that, but his credentials were up to date. He laughed humourlessly, "His room mate."

"Why are you still with him?" Patrick asked. "And you're tiny. In general, average, but for a football player you might as well be a midget."

"Oh please," Damon scoffed, "Because I'm a Salvatore. And he's a Lockwood. For better and for worse..." They were mated. They were tied by blood and nothing could sever that bond. Nothing short of death.

* * *

2

Having sex with Tyler was frightening.

Sometimes the brutality of the wolf terrified Damon. It was intense and very painful before it became very, very pleasurable. Sometimes he thought about the first time, and it left him shaking. No matter the following results, he had not been willing.

Tyler was his alpha and when in mating, he would always dominate. Always initiate. He would make him push through the pain and take it. By the time he'd gotten through the worst, he'd be too incoherent to fight.

He loved Tyler with all of his being, and always tried to not see his faults. He tried to convince himself that the blinding pain he felt when Tyler was fucking someone else was just a migraine. In his entire body. It was worse than bathing in vervain. Being shot. Breaking his bones. Having his fangs pulled out. All at the same time.

The nausea he felt when Tyler climbed into bed, scrubbed clean, but failing to remove the scent of sex and _whore, _he tried to convince himself was morning sickness. That they were having another baby.

But they hadn't had sex in months.

Having sex with Tyler was all-consuming, earth-shattering and every other word along those lines. But unless the hybrid was gentle with him, he'd be bedbound the next day. Even when gentle, he'd be too sore to sit properly, and his hips and legs to cramped to stand.

Tyler was _gifted, _but it was the tie that did the damage.

It had been crucial to their sex life that Damon had been meticulous about keeping himself moist and well prepared. But keeping up the _humiliating _ritual when Tyler had been off screwing someone else was beyond what Damon's pride could take.

Wearing the wide plug all day, having it rub gently against his prostate when he walked had brought him to tears more than once.

But not anymore.

Damon tossed his head back, sweat making his hair stick to his skin. Tanned strong hands gripped his hips as he rode the large, but _human _manhood belonging to one Patrick Baker.

It wasn't as intense as with Tyler. The orgasms weren't leaving him blind and near unconscious. It just felt good. There was no pain. At least, no pain comparable with what Tyler would dish out. And the pleasure wouldn't burn, but warm him.

It was just_ good_.

Patrick did not leave him with black bruises.

It was just the mutual climb for pleasure. The teeth against his skin only nipped, they never made him bleed.

"Oh mmmmh," Damon moaned as his belly tensed and heat spread up his back. Patrick sat up and wrapped his warm arms around him, pushing deeper, and pushing him higher. Damon cried out softly as he came, coating their bellies in come.

He squeaked in surprise at a series of harsh thrusts directly to his swollen prostate before Patrick stilled and swelled inside.

As much as he'd enjoyed it, Damon was relieved that they'd used a condom. Tyler would be able to smell Baker on him, but smelling his seed inside him would have him homocidial.

They fell down together on the hotel bed, just trying to catch their breat.

"You're amazing," Patrick murmured in his ear. "You deserve so much better."

He didn't have to say what he derserved so much better of, but Damon agreed. He was Tylers's mate. He deserved so much better than being treated like a second choice. He'd welcomed him into his body and carried his offspring.

He deserved so much better.

* * *

3

"I was wrong," Bonnie said as her hands hovered above Damon. "Damon was cursed by my ancestors, but Tyler is not the answer to the curse."

"What do you mean?" Stefan asked.

"It means Tyler claimed him, he is his mate, just not his soul-mate."

"And what does that mean?" Elena asked, frustrated. "He's coughing and vomiting blood!"

"I don't know!" Bonnie yelled. She tried to calm herself so she wouldn't wake the little girl sleeping. "I don't know," she said, trying to sound calm. "Werewolf claiming is brutal and territorial and vicious and nothing we ever saw of Tyler and Damon's relationship was anything like that! They were mutual, they loved each other. They were so... so together." Bonnie

"Yeah," Elena said, "They were very close. "

Stefan was quiet. Very quiet.

"Stefan?"

Stefan shifted uncomfortably, "When...uh, when Damon came back one night... just before he and Tyler were official, he was...messy."

Elena frowned, "Do you mean when he was supposed to talk to Caroline about Tyler?"

Stefan nodded. "We was bloody and smelled of grass and sex... he was crying."

"_Damon_ was crying?" Elena asked.

"Not openly, but he was. And later... the night before the ball, he was covered in bruises."

"You're saying Damon and Tyler were a... claiming?" Elena asked.

"Sounds like it," Bonnie asked.

"What does it mean?" Elena asked, "What is this?"

"It means he's dying, unless you find a way to reverse the bond..."

Bonnie, Elena and Stefan turned towards the cultured accented voice in the doorway.

"Elijah?"

* * *

4

Klaus rubbed his chest and scowled at his brother. "And why should I help you brother?"

"Not me, Damon."

Klaus paused. "Damon Salvatore?"

"He's mated to Tyler, your hybrid childe."

"And?"

"Tyler is abusing him. Damon is dying. He's coughing up blood and his daughter is terrified."

If it was possible, Klaus paled. "Lockwood mated my..."

Elijah paused, "Your... your what?"

"Um," Klaus plastered on a smile filled with bravado. "Back in the Civil War I came back here, and I stumbled upon a boy... a young man who was dying. He said he'd been shot by his father... for trying to save the woman he loved. He asked me to save her. He begged me..." Klaus shook his head, "With his last dying breath Damon Salvatore begged me to save Katarina's life. So I did. After I saved his."

* * *

5

"A submissive that was forced can't leave its alpha. The only reason Damon was able to defy Tyler and get here for help is because his instincts recognise that Tyler, while his alpha, mate and baby-daddy, does not have Marion's best interest at heart. From Damon's condition I'm guessing Tyler is stepping out on him. Frequently. See, if an alpha, after claiming a submissive like Tyler claimed Damon, starts the process of breaking the bond, it will eventually kill him."

"So there is nothing we can do?" Elena asked and sat down next to him. "Nothing?"

Klaus paused as Marion burrowed into his neck. She truly was a precious child. "There is a possibility that it can be transferred."

"How?" Stefan asked, perking up.

"An alpha stronger than Tyler can challenge the bond. But only if Damon wants it. Killing Tyler would kill Damon by default. A fact not very well known as submissive usually die before their dominants or commit suicide. Challenging the bond would mean claiming Damon. You could force him into a new bond, but in his current state, he probably wouldn't survive a wolf more powerful that Tyler. The other option is less likely to succeed, but more likely to let him keep his life."

"Which is?"

"Somehow convince Damon's most primal instincts that Tyler is a danger to Marion, and that he needs a stronger mate to protect him."

* * *

A/N So there, thats five scenes for you. please tell me what you think!


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